


Like Carmen, Like Daughter

by missdibley



Series: The Red Nose Diaries [81]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Children, Existing Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Marriage, the red nose diaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 05:24:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13652310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: Tom and Carmen revisit the site of their first meeting.





	Like Carmen, Like Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> Because readers seemed to connect with "Dibs" so much, I thought I'd write this peek into the future as a treat.

The main library at the old university on the South Side of Chicago was abuzz with activity. Students and professors were brisk in their movements as they came in through the revolving doors, hoisted their bags for inspection by the uniformed security staff, and pushed through the turnstiles that would admit them beyond the lobby.

Beyond the lobby was a passageway walled in glass, a liminal space that was quiet and cool. It gave way to a glass dome flooded with sunlight — a reading room where students hunched over laptops or napped, their heads resting upon on open textbooks. Everybody who came in, whether they meant to or not, took a cleansing breath upon entry. A considered moment and then…

“WHERE BOOKS?!”

There was a rustling sound as people paused to look in the direction of the noise. A cluster of students sitting closest to the entrance glared at the person who dared interrupt their studying with a shout. The culprit, Iris Carmen Hiddleston, aged 2, wriggled in her father Tom’s arms while Tom struggled to contain her.

Tom kissed her chubby cheek. “Quiet, love.” He glanced apologetically at a passing clerk. “We promised Mama, remember?”

“No books, Daddy,” Iris insisted, glaring at Tom as though he was somehow to blame.

Iris’s was a sunny disposition, but she was quick to lose her temper. When she frowned, her little brow furrowed and her lips pursed and her cheeks grew redder. It was one of the cutest things Tom had ever seen in his entire life. He suppressed a chuckle.

It was a beautiful Saturday in May, well into the mid-term exams of spring quarter. They had brought the children to Chicago before to see family and friends, but there had never been time to do this. Never time to return to what Carmen jokingly and lovingly called “the scene of the crime”.

There was no library tour on the schedule, but Carmen had prevailed upon security to let them in for a quick peek after she’d produced an alumni library card. She and Billy were using the bathroom while Tom showed Iris the very spot where he and Carmen had met so long ago.

Tom set Iris down, for she had settled. Following just a few steps behind, he would pat he top of her head reassuringly whenever she stopped and looked up at him.

Outside the clouds shifted in the sky and so the light in the reading room was now cool and dim. It lasted only for a minute and then it was dazzling bright again. This show of nature pleased the little girl. Iris clapped her little hands in excitement.

“DADDY SUN!” She cried, pointing at the glass ceiling.

“Iris Carmen Hiddleston.” Tom picked her up so he could look at her with utmost serious. “What did we say about quiet?”

“Kai-eht?” She shook her head. “No kah-eht.”

“But this is a library.”

“No books!” She repeated, insistent as ever. But then her eye was caught by a student who slept in a nearby carrel, his head cradled by an open textbook. “DADDY! THERE BOOK! THERE BOOK!”

Tom was trying to contain Iris, who now seemed determined to bow out of his arms and around in search of more books to exclaim over, when they were intercepted by a portly gentleman. His hair was sparser and wilder, and there were mustard stains on his sweater vest and trousers, but Tom would have known him anywhere. Ewen Bower, Ph.D., head of staff at the library and the man who arranged that first fateful visit so many years ago.

“Sir, please. If you cannot contain your child, then I must ask you to leave the premises.” He huffed and puffed, clearly agitated, but this only made Iris laugh.

“Apologies, Dr. Bower, but I was just explaining to my daughter here the importance of silence.” Tom put on what he hoped was his most appealing smile.

“Oh, do we know each other?” Dr. Bower squinted at Tom, straining to recognize this man with the ginger beard (now streaked with gray) and solicitous look.

“I’m Tom Hiddleston, sir. We met in 2015, when you arranged a tour for me.” Tom looked around approvingly. “It’s just as gorgeous a room as I remembered.”

“Were you the linguist here to work on the Assyrian dictionary?” Dr. Bower scratched his head.

“Erm, no sir.”

“The visiting Egyptologist from Heidelberg?” Dr. Bower’s mouth contorted into what Tom supposed was a smile.  _ “Guten tag!” _

“Ah, no, sir.”

Dr. Bower crossed his arms. “The experimental performance artist from Edinburgh?”

“NO SIR!” Iris yelled in Dr. Bower’s face, anticipating and parroting Tom’s response. She smiled up at Tom.

“Whoever you are, please.” Dr. Bower gestured to the passageway. “Your visit has ended.”

“But my wife is just arriving,” Tom looked in the direction where Dr. Bower was pointing, gratified to see Carmen approaching with Billy. He smiled, comforted and consoled by the warm smile on her face, and the sparkle in her eyes. Tom felt even better when he saw three year old Billy skipping at her side. Hair as curly as his sister’s, but lighter in shade. He was tall for his age, skinny with ruddy cheeks. “Mrs. Hiddleston is a graduate, and quite an involved one, you know…”

“Do I need to call security?” Dr. Bower reached for the walkie talkie clipped to his belt. “Or will you remove yourself and your family post-haste?”

“What…” Carmen looked at Tom, smiled at Iris, and squinted at Dr. Bower. She smiled when Billy left her side to hug Tom around the knees. “Tom?”

“I was just telling Dr. Bower we’re just waiting for you and Billy,” Tom began to explain.

“Ma’am, your child is disturbing the peace. It’s mid-terms, as you may know…”

Carmen rolled her eyes, though discreetly. “When is it not mid-terms, Dr. Bower?”

“I was just explaining about the noise, which was unacceptable.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but…” Carmen looked around the reading room. “Everybody’s wearing noise-cancelling headphones. I don’t think they’d hear a bomb exploding over in Stagg Field, let alone a two year old…” She bit her lip. “A two year old just  _ expressing _ herself.”

“Well, she can express herself…” Dr. Bower grit his teeth.  _ “Outside.” _

Billy tugged on the hem of Carmen’s skirt. “We hafta go?”

“NO BOOKS!” Iris yelled again.

“Iris!” Carmen said. “Quiet, please!”

“Bibby!” Iris called to her brother. “NO BOOKS!”

Billy frowned. He peered up at Tom. “Daddy not a liberry?”

Tom sighed. “No,” he said, taking Billy’s hand. They followed Carmen, who muttered under her breath about calling various deans to sort them out. “I guess not.”

Tom and Carmen found respite from the sun in a small quad just across the street, on the main campus just behind an ornate Neo-Gothic gate. There was a small pond stocked with carp, surrounded by small trees and plants. Carmen settled them down with some juice and crackers, settling them on a stone bench while she and Tom sat cross-legged on the grass before them.

Tom grinned. “We’re two for two, Button.”

“What? You mean getting kicked out of that library?” Carmen threw her head back and laughed. “More like four for four.” She jerked her head at Billy and Iris. “We’ve all been kicked out.”

“We’re probably banned by now.” Tom sniffed comically. “Whatever shall we do?”

“Tell our children’s children, so they can tell their children’s children, the legend of how the Hiddlestons became embroiled in feud with the library.” Carmen smiled. “Until, at least, a savior arrived to restore the peace between them.”

“What savior?” Tom grinned. “Bobby?”

Carmen shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “Not Bobby.” She reached into the pocket of her skirt, withdrew what appeared to be a plastic stick, and tossed it at Tom. As he picked it up from where it landed on the grass, Carmen continued: “Sorry we took so long in the bathroom.”

The sun was bright, so Tom cupped his eyes over the stick to get a good look. He found the little display, blinked at what he saw, then looked up in time to find Carmen crawling over to him.

“See?” She whispered in his ear, kissing just behind it. “That’s two lines, love.”

Tom closed his eyes, just for a moment. So he could open them again and see what he loved to see. His children chattering happily while they got cracker crumbs all over themselves. And his beloved wife looking back at him, her dark eyes sparkling, as ever, with mischief.


End file.
